


Let Me Go (I Can’t Help But Come Back)

by IJustGoNormalSometimes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (No I’m not), Angst, But he comes back, Canon Divergent?, Cheesy, Derek Leaves, Drama, Fluff, Its super cheesy, I’m sorry, M/M, More like fuck the canon, Spark!Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is magical, be warned, cheese for days, like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJustGoNormalSometimes/pseuds/IJustGoNormalSometimes
Summary: It was the sadness he always felt whenever he got a letter from Derek. Just before he wrote something back, pretending that everything was fine. Well- not pretending exactly. Everything was actually as fine as Beacon Hills could get. But it still hurt not to write those five words. The same five words that had been on the tip of his pen when he was writing the first letter. ‘When are you coming back?’





	Let Me Go (I Can’t Help But Come Back)

**Author's Note:**

> CHEESE FOR DAYS   
BE WARNED   
I AM NOT SORRY   
A BIT EMBARRASSED MAYBE   
BUT I HAD THIS STORY IN MY HEAD AND IM IN EXAM SEASON AND I NEEDED THE OUTLET 
> 
> Anyways.
> 
> Enjoy. (Or not, I mean, I don’t tell you what to do)

It was easy. To let himself go in the middle of a fight. The magic buzzed through him and took all of his worries away, one by one, transformed them into light that emanated from his fingertips, sparks of life that were as beautiful as they were lethal. He could entrance an omega with some quick light games and then BAM, a lightning would curse through the thing, and render it no more than a pile of ashes in a matter of seconds. 

It was comfortable, to revert back to high-school-nerd-obsessed-with-magic-tricks-and-his-whole-sparkdom when he was feeling sad. Today was no different. He let his mind wander as he created little patronus-like squirrels and made them run around the clearing. He didn’t have to think. He just believed, and did. 

It was quiet, though. Eventually his mind would wander back to the same thought that had him down in the first place. At least it was a familiar sadness, he thought as he saw the little light squirrel flicker and poof out of existence. 

It was the sadness he always felt whenever he got a letter from Derek. Just before he wrote something back, pretending that everything was fine. Well- not pretending exactly. Everything was actually as fine as Beacon Hills could get. But it still hurt not to write those five words. The same five words that had been on the tip of his pen when he was writing the first letter. ‘When are you coming back?’ 

That question though, it just brought another question into mind, one that was even scarier. ‘Why did you leave in the first place?’Stiles wanted that question answered desperately. Because it had been a shock to everyone. To Stiles above all. 

They’d been fine. They’d been growing and dealing and healing. Or at least Stiles had thought so at the time. Derek had been a steady presence by his side, comforting and familiar and grounding, after everything that had happened with the Nogitsune. He stuck around even after. What started as short check-in visita through Stiles’ window evolved into entire days just basking in each other’s presence, watching movies, reading books, researching. Stiles had been gearing up to ask Derek about that ‘something more’ that had been hanging above their heads for more than a year then, when Cora came into town. 

He didn’t blame her. Honestly, how could he? She didn’t make Derek go with her, the whole thing was Derek’s idea in the first place. She stayed for about two weeks, and when she left, she took Derek with her. 

Stiles couldn’t go to the airport. 

Derek had come to him the night before to break the news, just as Stiles had been planning exactly where he’d take Derek on their first date. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind, he was so sure Derek would say yes, he was so certain he wasn’t the only one feeling this... bond. This connection. This whatever-it-was that made Stiles smile softly whenever he caught a glimpse of Derek falling asleep while reading, or yawning as he made breakfast. He’d been so naive. 

“I need to do this” he’d said. “I’ll come back soon” he’d promised. Stiles had just shaken his head after hearing his heart break in a million pieces, and he’d put on a smile. He’d said he was glad, that Derek could do whatever he wanted, that he hoped he could be happy wherever he went. He wished him the best. He didn’t stop him, he didn’t say anything else. Derek slipped out of the window and out of his life forever after that. Well, a relative forever. There was still the vague promise of ‘I’ll come back’, but it had been 1 year, 3 months and 7 days. Yeah. How pathetic is it that he’s counting? 

That night, he’d just thrown his blankets over his head, and let a couple of stray tears go down his cheeks as he wondered why he hadn’t been enough to make Derek stay. What had gone wrong? What wasn’t he doing? 

It’s fine, he’d thought. I’ll get over him. He snorted every time the memory crossed his mind. Of course he didn’t get over him. Derek... Derek was it for Stiles. And no, it wasn’t a stupid teenage infatuation, no it wasn’t some fucked up scenario where he fell in love with the first shoulder he had to cry on. It went deeper than that. They’d been together (not as a couple, just coexisting) for three years. Derek had seen him graduate, get into college, go to therapy, work on his midterms. Derek had been there giving his unwavering support, and a part of Stiles felt guilty. He’d just coddled Derek and suffocated him all that time. The man obviously had had better things to do back then than entertain a teenager. It hurt to see it so clearly in retrospective. 

That’s why, when he said he was glad that Derek was getting out of Beacon Hills, at first he hadn’t meant it. But now, now he did. He was glad Derek was now allowed to have a life. Away from all the horrors this town attracted, away from the terrible memories from his past, away from a pining teenager who talked too much and helped too little to be considered pack. 

He’d thrown himself into learning about his Spark after that. His magic grew stronger, better, powerful. Deaton soon told him there wasn’t anything more left to learn on books. So he started practicing and experimenting at night, whenever he caught himself staring wistfully at a window that was never gonna slide open. 

Scott and a few of the others glanced sadly at him, preoccupied by the dark circles under Stiles’ eyes and the deep smell of sadness radiating off of him. He’d snapped out of that after month number three. He finally accepted that Derek... he may never come back. And that was a good thing, as long as Derek was happy wherever he was. 

Yeah sure, he still liked to slip back to his pity party every once in a while. But he felt like he was entitled. He glanced back down at the paper in his hands and reread it. 

“Cora’s been pestering me to tell you that we’re the biggest nerds in the world for writing each other by hand. Don’t pay her any mind, though, she’s just jealous because we’re definitely intellectually superior — EXCUSE ME THIS IS CORA AND THATS SO NOT TRUE YOU TWO ARE JUST DISGUSTINGLY IN — 

Anyways. She ruined that part of the letter but I don’t wanna start another one. 

I’m doing really good, therapy’s been... well it’s shit. But it’s helping. A lot. And I finally watched the movie you recommended in the last letter. All I can say is: I’m seriously not surprised you like it (I’d be rolling my eyes if we were face to face). I will admit - because Cora is gonna read this anyways and she’ll rewrite anything that’s not true - that I laughed. Ok. I was practically tearing up. So, good choice. 

Everyone here sends love, I hope you guys are doing well. 

Ps. Btw, have you tried dulce de leche? I think I’m in love” 

Stiles swallowed again. 

The first letter came three days after Derek left. A simple “Thinking of you, don’t stop eating healthy (curly fries are NOT HEALTHY). See you soon” 

They got incredibly more elaborate as time went by, and more casual. It wasn’t some kind of formal pen-pal-ship they had going on, it was just what you would probably text a friend that lived far away. Just written. Because after they started, they didn’t see any reason to stop. It gave Stiles a reason to have a little chest under his bed that he’d get out whenever he was feeling particularly shitty. It just wasn’t the same as to read a few stray text messages on a screen. It felt a little bit more intimate. And Stiles took solace in that. 

They came once a week after that first one. Without a miss. Derek would write, Stiles would write back the day he got the letter, and then it would be a week before he heard from Derek again. Sometimes... sometimes he’d wanted to ask why the letters weren’t stopping. It wasn’t Derek’s responsibility to keep him posted. He didn’t have to do it. So then, why did he? It just confused Stiles to no end and made that weird pull in his chest coil tighter. He’s never wished they stopped though. 

It’s bittersweet, to hear that Derek is doing so well. Because a voice in his head would always question ‘why couldn’t he be doing well with me?’ 

But he was genuinely glad. To know that he was alive. Safe. Cared for. Loved. Healing. 

He always managed to snap out of his depressing and pathetic trains of thought enough to find a pen and a paper and scribble about Scott and Kira, about Isaac, about Jackson and Lydia and Malia and Ethan. About anything and everything. From movies to snacks to the weather. He was always glad to print as many words in the paper as he could before sending them back. Mostly, out of fear, that one day his letters wouldn’t be entertaining enough, and Derek would just stop writing. 

It‘s Wednesday though. 

He’d just received the letter, and he was trying to clear his head before writing the usual trivial stuff he was used to. But it wasn’t working, not today. Not after the week from hell he’d had. 

A Wendigo, an omega and a witch walk into Beacon Hills... the start of the very bad joke that was Stiles’ life. He snorted to himself. Good thing his depression still had a sense of humor. 

But thinking about those encounters... almost dying with the Wendigo, and knowing that the last thought on his mind would’ve been Derek; killing the omega after a long fight, and seeing its desperate eyes as it howled at the moon in sorrow, calling to him in a way he never thought a creature would; and the cherry on top, discovering one of his colleagues at the library was the witch. She’d said some stuff... how she’d tried a love potion on Stiles, to get him on her side, “But you’re like a lovesick puppy, aren’t you? Mated already, but they’re not here, are they? They left you?” 

After her words there was lightning. 

And then there was nothing. 

He walked back to his place mindlessly. The letter in his pocket weighing heavy, warm but also painful. He needed to stop this. He needed to stop fooling himself. He couldn’t stand things as they were, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He wanted- he wanted change. Something had to change. 

What he wrote... it wasn’t out of anger. He meant it as a way to make Derek to stop. Stop being- Stop making Stiles want and long for things he couldn’t have. He wanted a reaction. 

“Derek. 

I was in love with you. 

I am in love with you. 

I’m sorry. 

I can’t do this anymore. 

You left, and that’s fine. It’s totally fine, don’t get me wrong. I want you to be happy. 

But I can’t make you happy. 

I’m begging you, stop

Please, stop writing”. 

—— 

It’s Wednesday. 

Two weeks have gone by. He checked the mailbox out of habit. Still feeling the slight pang if surprise and heartache when there wasn’t a letter inside. ‘Just like last week’ he thought to himself. He told Derek not to write anymore, and he complied. There wasn’t much else to it. 

It hurt. 

It would pass eventually. 

He still had that chest under his bed. He still had the small comfort of Derek being happy. It would all be ok. 

——

It‘s Wednesday. 

In his wandering through the forest, he doesn’t know what brings him to the Hale house. But he’s drawn to it with a force that’s undeniable. He stops at the steps and sits down, the old wood creaking under his weight, welcoming into its broken nest. Stiles closed his eyes, feeling the wind rustle his hair, smiling at the sun that was timidly shining through the tattered wooden chunks that were once the roof of the porche. 

He didn’t wonder what Derek was doing, he didn’t wonder what Derek was thinking. He felt calm. Appeased. Contained. 

The Hale house became his sanctuary after that. Every Wednesday, he’d helplessly cling to the ruins of the Derek Hale he knew. 

Summer heat turned to chilly winds but Stiles was not deterred. He’d bring a blanket and sit out there, just watching over the land. 

After a month with no answer, Stiles learned to deal with it as best he could. Jokes and banter, playing with his friends, keeping his pack together, caring for them and being a friend. Humor wasn’t enough to cure his lovesickness, but family was. And it would be enough. 

——

It’s Wednesday. 

Two months have passed since Stiles sent that final letter, and yesterday he was finally able to open the little chest under his bed. He smiled sadly, read a few of them, and then closed it again. 

He’s making his way to the Hale house once again when he sees it. Senses it. Somethings different. He puts up a protective spell over himself, one that will let him go unnoticed as long as he stays focused. 

The woods creaking, as if someone is walking on the second floor, so Stiles makes his way upstairs as quietly as he can, his brow furrowed in concentration and his eyes emanating a white hue. 

Whoever was in here, either was pack, or was evil. His blanket had been removed from the small chair he’d brought to the front porche two weeks ago. His chair was moved as well. 

He finally planted both his feet firmly on the second floor and closed his eyes, listening. A creak to his right (the far end of the house) makes him start moving again. This time, his his magic buzzing expectantly as he prepared himself for attack and defense. It was on the other side of the land, so whoever or whatever it was probably didn’t see him coming. 

He enters one of the rooms, the walls stained with angry scorch marks and the air heavy with sorrow. Stiles didn’t like that he could actually perceive auras of things now. It made this house all the more alive to him. It made him protective. He wanted whoever it was out. Now. 

Broad shoulders are illuminated by the soft rays of sunlight that bounce between the dust specks. A shadow. A familiar one. 

Familiar enough to make Stiles whimper, losing concentration and making his shield go down, startling the man in front of him and making him turn around. 

Those pale eyes. That stubble. The dark locks of hair. 

“No” was all he could mutter. 

“Stiles”, god fuck his voice still cut as deep as it did days before he left. His tone surprised and confused but mostly gentle as he took a hesitant step forward. 

Stiles threw his arm up, stopping him. His eyes were welling up and he didn’t really understand why. But he managed to speak without his words choking off “I told you to stop”. 

“I did” Derek said lowly, his eyes searching Stiles’ with such intensity that it made it almost impossible to look up. 

“You’re not supposed to be here” he said to the floorboards. 

“It’s my home” Derek retorts. 

“You were happy. You were healthy” Stiles days dumbly. 

“I was. I am” 

“You should go back” Stiles says, and finally one of the tears manages to break free and run down his cheek. 

“Why?”

“You belong there” 

“I belong here. This is my home”. 

“No”, Stiles said again, and this time, his feet were moving back towards the door and he was trying to blink the rest of the tears away. 

“Stiles-“

“No!” Stiles said, loudly this time. “You belong there. You- you can’t- you can’t come back to all this again”. With that, he turned around and made his way down the stairs. The creak of the stairs felt ominous and too noisy and he just wanted to be out of there quickly. Get out. Get away. Don’t make him do this for you again. 

Derek was running behind him, “You can’t just leave-“ 

“You did” Stiles says, and he can’t keep the bitterness out of the words, making the statement an accusation he didn’t want to make in the first place. He walked down the porche and out into the field. 

“Stiles!” 

It made him stop. That tone... it was the urgency that Derek would put on his name when they were in danger. The footsteps grew closer until they stopped just a few feet away from where Stiles was, rooted to the spot. 

The silence grew until Stiles was vibrating out of his skin. He couldn’t stand it “You can’t come back here just to humor a poor stupid kid with a poor stupid crush. I’m not a kid anymore. It’s not your responsibility to entertain me. You can leave”. 

Derek stayed quiet. A couple steps drew him closer and then “I didn’t come back for you”. 

Stiles looked down, tensing. He wanted this conversation to be over. 

“I came back for myself. I needed to come back. This is my home Stiles, this is where I want to be” Derek said. His words sounded sincere, but still. 

“Then why go in the first place?” Stiles questioned. 

“Because... because I needed the distance. I needed time. As cliche as it sounds, I needed to find myself” Derek says, and it’s so close to the lighthearted banter they used to have that Stiles can’t take it. 

“I’m glad you did” he says sincerely. But he’ doesn’t fit in this scenario anymore, Stiles knows it. ”I really am” he repeats, and promptly snaps his fingers, appearing back in his room. Just before he sneaks back under his covers, he makes sure to lock the window. 

——

He’s walking up the stairs after a long day. Work managed to get his brain to stop thinking for a while but now he was back to reality. Derek came back yesterday. And Stiles didn’t know what to do with that. 

He opened his room to a sight so familiar it startled him. Derek, propped on his bed, looking to the ceiling. Just there. Waiting. 

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asks from his spot just outside the doorframe. 

Derek doesn’t even move at first, and Stiles hesitates, thinking maybe Derek didn’t hear him, but then he’s standing up and walking right up to Stiles, holding his gaze with something that Stiles doesn’t recognize. He used to know every little thing about Derek, every quirk of an eyebrow, every glint in his eye. It was sobering, to not recognize what Derek was feeling in that moment. “We need to talk”

Stiles gulped, looking down. “Then talk”. 

Derek states at him for a couple of beats and then sighed. “I needed to leave, Stiles”. 

Stiles dropped his bag on the floor and pushed past Derek to sit on his bed to take off his shoes, “So you said. I understood then, I understand now”. 

Derek sighed exasperated, and it was comforting to know that some of the old Sourwolf was still somewhere in there. “No, You don’t”. 

Derek sat down on the chair at his table, “I left because I needed to remember what being with family was. I- I needed to learn how to live with myself after everything, because as much as I tried, I just couldn’t let myself be happy here”. 

“Then why come back at all?” Stiles questions, staring at his hands on his knees. 

“Because I wanted to let myself be happy, and I needed to learn how to do that. My sister, a pack, therapy... everything I had helped with that” Derek continues. 

Stiles is about to repeat his question when Derek kneels in front of him, catching his eyes by surprise and leaning forwards “I left because I loved you, you moron” he says, and there’s the slight uptick of his mouth that undermines the insult as something akin to a find nickname. 

Stiles closes his eyes after that, his throat clogging with a thousand questions. But Derek didn’t let any come out, as he continued “I wanted to be myself again, to be me and be healthy so I could come back and... and be with you. Properly. We wouldn’t have been happy if I’d stayed”. 

Stiles snorts sadly, “No, you wouldn’t have been happy if you stayed. I was- I was happy. I had you. But what you had wasn’t enough to make you happy”. 

Stiles’ hand shoots up to run through his hair nervously, but Derek catches it by the wrist “Stiles” he pleads, and that snaps the younger man’s eyes back to Derek’s. “You do make me happy. I left- I needed space to heal. To learn. But nothing’s changed from before. I love you. I didn’t stop loving you for one second. I meant it when I said I’d come back, because as soon as I felt healed enough, I had to come back here and chase the only one that can make me smile like an idiot with a stupid letter”. 

Stiles sighed, but a smile played at his lips. He was being selfish and difficult, he knew. But all the anger had wanted to come out in a rush and he was realizing time and time again that the anger was just fear in disguise. Fear that this wasn’t real. Fear that he’d lose Derek again. Fear that he wouldn’t be enough to keep Derek here. 

“They weren’t stupid letters” he chuckles wetly, raising his eyes to meet Derek’s. 

Derek shrugs, “We had our moments” he says lightly. He’s still holding on to Stiles’ wrist tightly, like he’s afraid Stiles will just run and jump out the window any minute now like the werewolf he’s not. But Stiles feels grounded, just like he did when he read Derek’s letters. 

“I missed you” is all Stiles manages to say. “I really thought you’d never come back”. 

Derek smiles sadly, “I might’ve stayed away for longer than I intended”. 

“You’re sure, though? That you’re ready to come back?” Stiles asks. Because despite everything he said out of anger, he gets it. He gets why Derek left, and he gets why he needed to do it. It just took him by surprise to realize that Derek actually did have something to come back to. 

Derek shrugged “I guess we’ll figure it out”

Stiles pursed his lips, “I wasn’t trying to be dramatic and make you come back, you know? I just... I just thought I had to move on eventually” 

Derek nodded, looking down “I know. But that letter you sent... I wanted to be, I don’t know, perfectly fine when I came back. So I could show you I was good enough for you...” 

Stiles starts to roll his eyes. Once again, Derek Hale joins the self-sacrificing idiots parade. “Derek...” he starts with exasperation, but the man isn’t finished. 

“I just thought- if I got myself together, we could be together, you know? I could do this right. But then you sent that letter and I realized that I was about to lose one of the most important parts of my life if I stayed away, but I didn’t feel perfectly healthy yet. Then my therapist and Cora both knocked some sense into me-“

“Bless their souls” Stiles mutters. He’s not about to hide the fact that he’s glad Derek is back now. 

Derek continues just sending him a soft smirk “They talked to me and made me realize that I was never gonna be A-okay. And I couldn’t keep running away from this”. 

Stiles smiled “You were scared of fucking it up too?” 

Derek snorted “In simpler words, yeah” he says and they both chuckle. “I’m here to stay, though. I’m serious. I’m not expecting you to love me and be with me right away, I mean, you can have some time to think about it and-“

Stiles dropped to his knees, then, hugging the ever loving shit out of Derek like he wanted to at the Hale house (even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself). “I’m real easy...” he jokes, but Derek is hugging him back now and he feels like he finally got his best friend back. “When it comes to Derek Hales, anyways” 

Derek chuckles into his shoulder “There’s more than one?” 

Stiles smiles into Derek’s skin, “Nope. Just the one. So count yourself lucky” 

Derek hugs him a bit tighter “I do”. 

They settle into a silence that allows both their brains to process everything that just happened. 

“I’m really sorry for yesterday” whispers Stiles into the silence. “I was angry, mostly at myself... For a moment there, I really- I thought you’d just come back to, well, just to humor me or something. I didn’t know...” 

“‘S ok” came Derek’s soft response. “I’m- I’m not sorry I left. But I am sorry I didn’t tell you why I was leaving that night”. 

“’S ok” Stiles said back. “You’re here now”.Derek hummed in agreement. “But I’m still not fixed yet either. I have my issues, and I got to therapy and I have the pack here, but I’m still not... I don’t know if you’re gonna be happy even now” Stiles confesses. 

Derek pulls back, just enough to press their foreheads together “You making me happy was never in question, Stiles. The problem was that I couldn’t let myself be happy without feeling guilty about everything...” 

Stiles nodded, choosing to believe Derek for now, even if he knew his brain would love to play tricks on him with that specific piece of info. “And now...?”

Derek smiles, leaning in slowly and eventually pressing his lips against Stiles’ as a response. When he pulls back, after only a chaste kiss, he murmurs “It’s a work in progress, but I think we can make it together”

Stiles chuckles “Gosh, that’s so damn cheesy” 

“I literally wrote you letters by hand weekly, I would’ve thought you expected cheesy from me” Derek chuckles. 

Stiles smirks, “We can’t let anyone know how cliche we are. We have a reputation to uphold”. 

Derek nods solemnly, “Noted”

Stiles leans back in to kiss Derek, and is surprised when the man tilts his head his so, deepening it. Stiles groaned low in his throat, and Derek hugged him impossibly closer, pressing them from knee to chest. When they parted to breathe Stiles started laughing uncontrollably. 

“Jesus Christ, we ended up being exactly like that stupid Colombian soap you and Cora love” he said with mirth, and Derek grumbled something about him not being the one watching the soap opera religiously, but Stiles couldn’t contain his happiness, so his giddy and goofy smile stayed, as the giggles died down and he and Derek were left staring at each other closely. 

“What now?” Stiles asked. 

Derek smiled. 

——

It’s Wednesday. 

“You do realize the blindfold makes no sense, right?” Stiles protested. Silence met him, nothing aside from the labored rumbling of the Jeep. 

“I know the Hale house is officially done today, and I know you’re taking me there” he says petulantly. But again, nothing but silence. He huffs in annoyance, leaning back against the seat “Fine, don’t tell me anything, I’ll be here practicing my surprised faces, even when I literally drew the blueprints with Derek” he says the last part with sarcastic emphasis, but that isn’t enough to persuade Lydia to talk. 

It’s been three years (five or take) since Derek came back. Three years since they finally started a relationship. It’s had its ups and downs, but Stiles is back to feeling like himself again. He’s grown, sure, but that part of him he thought had died with the Nogitsune was nurtured and cared for and it grew back, and he finally felt whole. Derek helped in that, and Stiles liked to think he was of some help in Derek’s recovery too. He’d graduated from college earlier in the year, and he’d dumped all his pent up energy from having nothing to do for the summer into rebuilding the Hale house with Derek. It was a project that had been in their minds for a while, and on Christmas last year, Stiles had presented to Derek a rough sketch of a new and improved Hale house, renamed the “Pack House”, with rooms for everyone to be in, and a few extra just in case some kids started to fill the house as well. 

Today, though. He’d been woken up far earlier than he would’ve liked to, by Lydia no less, and he had to endure her silence while he questioned over and over where Derek was and what she was doing at his house and so on. But he’d finally given up now, he’d just go along for the ride. If Derek was behind this, he had to admit it was a nice gesture. Even if he’d already seen the house, he was touched that Derek wanted to make the presentation of the finished product something special. 

They keep driving like that in complete silence, until the familiar shift to a dirt road snaps his wandering mind back to attention. “Get down and look pretty” is all Lydia instructs him as Stiles blindly paws at the door handle and let’s himself out of the car. She takes one of his wrists and guides him up the steps towards the door and places his hand on the handle “Good luck” she says lowly, “Don’t take off your blindfold until I say so, ok?”

“Fine” Stiles muttered. 

They went inside and Stiles took a couple steps before Lydia was stopping him. “When I close the door, you can take the blindfold off”. And just as Stiles hears the door creak shut, he yanks the damn blindfold off his face and is completely and utterly speechless. 

The house is beautiful inside, he already knew that. What he didn’t know, is that Derek would be right there, in front of him, on one knee, with a little box in his hands that had a single black and silver ring nestled on top. 

“Stiles-“ 

“Yes” Stiles blurts out. Then covers his mouth, “Sorry, you were gonna give a speech, go on”. 

Derek chuckles, “Genim Stilinski-“

“Oh my gosh, not my real name!” Stiles groans, but the huge smile on his face betrays anything other than pure unadulterated happiness. 

“Shut up and let me be romantic, dammit” Derek demands, but his smile is just as wide and he’s blushing up to the top of his ears and it’s so adorable that Stiles actually shuts up for once. He gestures for Derek to go on, so the man does “I ran away, once, because I couldn’t let myself be happy with you. But... but I’ve changed since then, I’ve grown. You taught me how to let myself be happy, and in your own weirdo way-“ (“Hey!” Stiles protests, but a look from Derek shuts him right back up) “you also learned to be happy with me. So, uh. This is me, telling you that I’m not gonna run away anymore. Never. I said it before but, i wanted to make it official... You’re it for me Stiles, and we built this house together thinking about our future, and I want you to know that not only do I want you to be part of every second of that future, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me”. He says and sighs. 

Stiles remains still, wide misty eyes settled on Derek’s, but he doesn’t say anything. Finally Derek clears his throat, “Um, that was it, that was the speech” 

Stiles smirks, “Yeah, but you didn’t ask me” 

Derek rolls his eyes with a smile, “Genim Stilinski, will you marry me-“ 

“Yes!” Stiles all but shouts, kneeling down and forgoing the ring in favor of kissing Derek square on the mouth, effectively tumbling them both to the ground. They giggle and kiss and hug, Stiles whispering yeses over and over again. “God, I- I can’t believe you just honest to god proposed to me” 

Derek chuckled “You didn’t put the ring on yet” 

Stiles snorts, “Fine you cheese-monster, put a ring on me” he says kneeling back up, and helping Derek up as well. 

By some miracle, the ring had stayed in the box, so Derek took it out and slipped it right on Stiles’ finger. “There” Derek says, while Stiles is momentarily entranced by the weight and sight of the ring. 

They both look at each other, giddy and euphoric. Stiles cups Derek’s cheek, his eyes conveying the rush of love and affection as he leans forwards, gently kissing Derek’s lips. They shuffle closer, Derek coaxing Stiles’ lips open with a single swipe of his tongue, as they lose track of time, too wrapped up in each other. 

“Can we come in yet?” Comes Scott’s voice from outside. 

“Did he say no?” Comes Malia right after. 

Stiles chuckles against Derek’s lips, kissing him once more before pulling back, “You can come in” he announces. 

The pack crashes inside the house, and cheers and laughter fill the renewed Hale house once again. It’s a whirlwind of congratulations and good wishes from everyone, his dad and Melissa and Cora included. But Stiles can just feel Derek’s smile pressed against his neck, and he can’t help but think back to that little chest he has on his closet. All those words exchanged, all that time apart, all those thoughts that once plagued him, making him feel unworthy... they paled in comparison to the real and steady love Derek was trying to convey by writing to him every Wednesday. The letters said ‘I’m still here’, ‘You’re on my mind all the time’, ‘I can’t ever let you go’. 

They said ‘I love you’. 

From here on, every Wednesday, and every other day of the week, would be another letter that they got to write together. 

And isn’t that the perfect dramatic and cheesy ending to their perfect dramatic and cheesy story? 

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to point out that I am aware that both Stiles’ reaction and Derek leaving in the first place are kind of immature and maybe seem dumb, but I stand by them. They’re both human, they’re not perfect.   
Derek left because he felt like if he didn’t he might ruin whatever potential he and Stiles had. He was running away even if he didn’t admit it or even know it at first.   
And Stiles was pissed when Derek came back, because he genuinely convinced himself that Derek had only been his friend in the first place because he’d been clingy and needy and Derek couldn’t bring himself to reject him. So when Derek shows up after the confession letter, Stiles thinks it’s the same as last time, and he’s mad and he acts rashly and selfishly and kinda stupid. But he’s hurt and afraid, so yeah. 
> 
> It might come off as dysfunctional, but bear in mind both our boys are very fucked up, and working on it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll be perfect rational beings in a minute. It takes time. Hence why I decided on that proposal/epilogue thing. I felt like they needed to take it slow and grow. And I’m also a slut for cheesy disgusting proposals. Sue me. 
> 
> Rant over.   
If I made mistakes and it annoyed you, feel free to point it out in the comments.


End file.
